time flies like an arrow (fruit flies like a banana)
by birdbox
Summary: There was a time when Amy didn't believe she'd ever consider the irritant extraordinaire (her words) Jake Peralta a friend, but right now it's his friendship she misses, mostly. Jake/Amy-pre-relationship one shot, post finale.


**time flies like an arrow (fruit flies like a banana)**

* * *

The first week Jake's not there is... well, it's weird. Amy tells herself she's only noticing it so much because she sits opposite his empty desk and she notes with relief that everyone else is a little off-kilter too. Briefing is a hell of a lot quieter and faster without his interjections and jokes and for the whole of the first week at least, everyone leaves almost silent after Sarge dismisses them. There's a collective sense of something missing.

**-X-**

Three weeks after Jake went undercover, Amy convinces Teddy to go out dancing after they go out for dinner—but this time to a beginners dance class rather than a dodgy 'community' hall. He seems slightly reluctant at first but she's excited enough for the both of them, convincing herself it'll be just as fun -if not more so- than when she was undercover with Jake and Holt.

The date isn't disastrous per se, but it's bad enough that they don't make a return visit and Amy doesn't attempt to bring it up with him again. Teddy is slight too strait-laced to let go enough to get into it, and he certainly doesn't enjoy the experience. Not that it's a bad thing in itself -she knows she's the same in a lot of situations- but without the rush of being undercover and sensing her boyfriend's discomfort and discreet looks at the clock on the wall, Amy can't find it in her to enjoy it much either, certainly not the way she did when she was in Jake's arms.

(Which is a train of thought so wildly inappropriate for a date with her boyfriend that she shuts it down as soon as it enters her head and mentally slaps herself for even entertaining.)

Amy has to give him credit for the fact that he's suffering through it without complaint for her sake, making forced smiles whenever she caught his eyes. It's sweet that he's trying and she knows in her heart of hearts that it's because he knows how excited she was about this, but somehow it's not quite enough. She and Teddy step together in an awkward, tight square, in the whole hour and a half they barely cover more than one square foot of the dance floor.

All in all, it's an experience that makes her question whether it's a good thing that's she's dating someone so similar to herself.

They watch more confident, supposedly beginner couples stride around like pros from their square of floor, and Amy tries not to picture the soft smile and the look in Jake's eyes while he was 'teaching' her in the community hall.

**-X-**

The sixth week Jake's away, he calls for the first time to check in.

He isn't really supposed to call the precinct at all but Holt assures them in a private meeting in his office that he okayed it with the feds first and took reasonable precautions. It's a short conversation though, and Holt is the only one he speaks to. "He asked me to greet you all in a way that I feel is inappropriate for polite company so I'll paraphrase: Peralta says 'hello'."

Amy rolls her eyes affectionately. The squad listen avidly to the small details Jake gave Holt on the phone about the mission and how it's going. By the sounds of it, he's doing well and he seems to be enjoying it although Holt's characteristic monotone and witness statement-style account of what Jake said make it hard to read between the lines.

"Santiago," Holt says after he dismisses the squad, indicating he wanted her to stay. He waits until everyone else has dispersed. "Peralta asked after you."

Amy swallows and something she can't name twists in her stomach. "After the squad?" Amy says innocently, even though she knows full well what he means.

"No," Holt responds slowly. Amy can't be sure but she gets the impression Holt understands more than he's letting on. "He asked after you, specifically. I thought you'd like to know."

Amy nods slowly. "Thank you, sir."

It's only when she's back at her desk that she fully processes the new information. She looks over at his abandoned desk wistfully, clean for the first time since she'd been at the 99 but despite her penchant for cleanliness and the fact she's had five weeks to get used to it, it still doesn't seem right. Amy kind of misses pushing his slowly migrating crap back onto his desk every other week and giving him lectures on the benefits of having a tidy work space which she's sure he only half-listened to.

She kind of misses him, if she's honest.

Misses his stupid jokes and over-active imagination and how he'd come and sit in the chair next to her desk and talk to her about nothing after they'd both endured a long, hard shift. There was a time when Amy didn't believe she'd ever consider the irritant extraordinaire (her words) Jake Peralta a friend, but right now it's his friendship she misses, mostly. But then even if she could talk to him now, what would she say? Especially after what he confessed to her when she last saw him.

Jacob Peralta likes her, like _that. _Amy struggles to get her head around it even now but looking back some things make more sense when she looks back with that information in her head. She hasn't forgotten a word (the whole thing is carefully stored in a private corner of her mind for quiet moment's contemplation alone at night) but the part that comes to mind when she slips back to that night is 'romantic styles' because it's such a uniquely Jake-way to express himself that it'd make her laugh if he hadn't been so damn earnest about it and yet... somehow it conveyed exactly what he wanted it to.

Even if she's still not sure if '_romantic styles_' ends in a '_S_' or a '_Z_'. Knowing Jake, it's probably a 'Z' because that's how he rollz.

**-X-**

Eleven weeks after Jake is 'fired', Amy and Teddy break up.

She can honestly say it has nothing to do with Jake, even if he has been on her mind a lot recently—the effect of losing someone she's used to seeing everyday whose last words to her were a confession of romantic feelings who is now near constantly in potential danger that she wouldn't be able to do anything about. With Teddy, it's more to do with distance and the mutual feeling that they're becoming more friends who go out to dinner occasionally rather than actual boyfriend and girlfriend. Her first sign that something wasn't right was when they ran out of police codes—hindsight is 20/20 of course, but basing a relationship on that might not be the best way to make one last. They part as friends with the overall sentiment that it was good while it lasted, but like she said eleven weeks ago break ups -even if they're mutual- _always _suck.

Amy goes out at an unholy time of night -perhaps not her best idea but if you can't act recklessly after a break up, when can you?- to go to the grocery store down the street to buy a large carton of Ben & Jerry's Half Baked and some red wine. The store has a stand of DVDs by the check outs and on a whim she picks up what looks like a crappy cop movie because there's no way she's getting to sleep tonight anyway and for some reason she likes the look of it.

Half way through the ice cream and half way through the actually-quite-enjoyable movie, she's finally worked out why she liked the look of it. It's on a list of buddy cop films that Jake recommended to her ages ago in a lull of work. Amy wants more than anything to thank him for making her feel better without even knowing it- well, actually just talk to him would be nice. Even though he's a complete doofus at least 93 per cent of the time, things sort of make sense when she talks it it out with him. She misses that.

Amy even scrolls through through her phone's contact list to hover her fingers over his number. Of course, she can't call it. Even her slightly inebriated self knows that would be an awful idea on every level, in fact she isn't even sure if he'd have his own phone with him. But it's comforting to know it's there, a sort of tenuous link to him.

She must have gotten drunker than she thought she was because the next morning she finds an unsent text to him in her phone's drafts:

_jus come back idiot._

**-X-**

Twenty weeks after Jake went away, he comes back.

Amy didn't know he was coming back, but she had heard whispers around a few weeks back that the undercover mission was at the beginning of the end, earlier than expected. Holt would neither confirm nor deny the rumours when she carefully prodded him for details and like always, his face gave nothing away. Amy had decided not to get to hopeful because she was aware on an uncover mission just an hour was a long time and things could change drastically at any time for him.

Amy is in the middle of an incredibly tough week searching for a particularly vicious murderer and since the leads she'd had at the start are now pretty much exhausted, she's on the terrace in the middle of lighting up a shame cigarette. As always, she swears to all that is holy, that one day she'll kick the habit for good. _But that day is not today_, she thinks, and struggling with her lighter-

"Amy Santiago!" A voice booms so loudly and unexpectedly in the still of the evening air that Amy jumps out of her skin and the cigarette and the lighter fall out of her hand. "Shame cigarettes, is it? Colour me disappointed!"

She whirls on her heel to see Jake standing at the terrace doors, a huge toothy grin on that stupid, smug face that she's missed so much. "Jesus, you scared the life out of me!" she says by way of greeting. She smacks him on the shoulder when he gets close enough to reach.

"'_Hey Jake, how are you? I haven't seen you in __five __months and the 99 hasn't been the same without you' _Well, I'm great, thanks for asking Santiago-" he mockingly conducts a one-sided conversation with her and she struggles to hold in her smile before she finally gives in and practically jumps into his arms, stopping his monologue with a tight hug.

After a shocked moment of non-action, Jake tightens his arms around her and lifts her slightly off the ground, swinging her legs around gently. "Missed you, idiot," she murmurs into his shoulder, burying her face into his familiar leather jacket. Half of her hopes it's muffled enough he doesn't hear it. A rumble of gentle, surprised laughter echoes in her chest against hers and she feels her face turn red because evidently, he did hear her.

"Yeah," he agrees softly, his breath against her ear. "I missed you too, Amy."


End file.
